


Nemesis

by Ember_Keelty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-15 23:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ember_Keelty/pseuds/Ember_Keelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets about Jack and PM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tired of Running

            You are so tired of running.

            Not that you ever realized that was what you were doing, not consciously.  You left the Incipisphere because your home lay in ruins and there was nothing more you could do.  You left behind your old clothes and name because that was the custom.  Just now, you were preparing to leave Earth because WQ counseled you to do so.  Your feet have carried you so far and for so long that the shell on their soles is scored from toe to heel with scars each the width of a grain of sand, but you always believed you were moving _toward_ something, never that you were being chased.

            (That's not quite true:  sometimes, you had nightmares he was chasing you.  Sometimes he even caught you, and the pain of hunger and cold-stiffened joints would seep into your dreams and become the pain of torture, until your own screams woke you.)

            He looks different now than in your memories and your dreams, but his eyes are the same — and really, he was just as monstrous then.

            You stand tall and lift your sword.  AR died quickly.  Maybe you will too.  Maybe it won't hurt at all.  He isn't looking at you right now — maybe if you're fast enough, you can make him bleed a little before he gets you.

            (Maybe it will be everything you have ever feared it would be.  It doesn't matter.  This is for Prospit and for your friends.)

            You take your swing.

–

            Holy fucking shit this girl is pissed at you.  You do not think you have ever seen anyone this full of rage and white-hot burning hatred when you were not looking in a mirror.  Even you have to admit that it's intriguing.  Also terrifying.  Also kind of hot.

            You are not used to facing problems you would rather not deal with by murdering them, and you are even a little ambivalent about defeating her without killing her.  If you could just cut the ring from her hand, she would be all yours, and you could do whatever you wanted with her.  But if you did that, you would never again get to see her as she is now, beautiful and bristling with power.

            Of course the bigger issue is that even if you were to try it, you would only have maybe a fifty-percent chance of succeeding.  Those are some truly shitty odds when the other fifty percent has you watching your own body fold over as you bleed from the hole in your neck where it used to be attached to you.  You think you'll pass on that one.

            So, instead, you flee from her.  When she catches up to you, you parry her blows and flee again.  It's exhausting and humiliating and leaves you feeling more dead than alive — except, of course, that your heart is battering itself almost bloody against the inside of your ribcage — but what choice do you have?

            You are so tired of running.


	2. Deal

    She can tell exactly what he's thinking as they look at each other across the cracks in space itself, and, as much as she hates it, she finds herself thinking something similar.  What if whatever this is could hurt WV, or keep her from getting back to him?

    Maybe she can even use it to her advantage.

    "One hour," she says.  "After that, you stand and fight me to the death.  No more running."  He has kept his word before.

    "I'm not going to kill you," he says — horrified, insulted, like he hasn't killed millions already.  "I like you.  I want to _keep_ you."

    For a moment, she's stunned into silence and stillness.  She thought she had nothing left to lose.  She was wrong.  For the first time in years she feels the cold touch of fear on the back of her neck, but it's quickly overtaken by the heat of a sudden backdraft of anger.  After everything he's taken from her, he still wants to take more.

    She gives him no warning before lunging again.  He moves just in time, but it's close, and she'll get closer yet.

    How could she have thought she could deal with a demon?


End file.
